Succubus
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: One of three New Years' stories I'm doing for my three top pairings; this is second place. John, hammered from New Year's Eve, falls asleep and Vriska - forever unobtainable but always desirable - confronts him in a dream bubble about the feelings he can't help but have for her. T for reasons. I don't own Homestuck or the art!


**((The second of my OTPs, written in honor of the new year! Takes place on the New Year's Eve/Day before their journey ends, as with the other two.))**

John's eyes blinked open and immediately slammed shut again as he moaned inwardly, hating the hangover he should have foreseen. He had stayed up almost till dawn, first drinking, then playing video games with Davesprite, until finally he had staggered into bed and crashed instantly.

"Hey, you!" Vriska's voice, too loud in his sensitive ears, was accompanied by a prodding sensation in his ribs. John opened one eye a crack to see a red sneaker on his chest, and heaved himself to his feet, swaying dangerously before Vriska stepped forward to catch him. She was just as beautiful as she was every time John saw her in a dream bubble—pretty in a wild, vicious sort of way. And hot, of course. Heretofore unimaginably sexy.

"…Wha—"

"Have you been drinking, amateur?" teased Vriska, guiding him gently but powerfully over to a nearby, shady patch of soft grass, which he lay upon gratefully. He wondered, not for the first time, why Vriska had broken up with his alternate-timeline self, and thought with some wistfulness of what it would have been like to be her boyfriend.

"Well, yeah! It was New Year's Eve. Aren't you suppos—" John swallowed; his throat was a little raw. Vriska smiled a little, genuinely—her lips were chapped, trademark blue lipstick wearing off—and laid his head gently in her lap, removing his glasses and stroking his hair.

John blinked. "Whoa," he managed to say, and Vriska laid a soft, long-nailed finger on his lips, giving him a blurry but visibly confident smile. It was enough incentive for John to stop talking. In fact, John was reasonably convinced that if she wanted him to stop talking, he would never talk again. He was completely within her power, and she knew it.

"It's been quiet around here," sighed Vriska, massaging John's aching head; he grit his teeth, barely paying attention to anything but the rhythmic pressure of his crush's fingers on his skull. "Tavros is useless as usual. I wish you could be here instead of him. You actually do what I say, and do it right."

"Mhm," said John.

"I mean, Tavros is all very well as a henchman, but sometimes I think he just doesn't _listen_," growled Vriska, her annoyance seeping through into her massage; John winced more than once as her pointed fingernails dug into his skin. "And even when he does, he doesn't do his job right. Or he asks questions. He's even tried suggesting ways to make _my_ plans better!" She gave a sigh of annoyance and John opened his eyes a little as the massage stopped, wanting more.

"You're not listening to me either, are you?" Vriska demanded glaringly.

"Uh," said John, preoccupied with the fact that her chest was directly above his face. Vriska seemed to take that as the 'no' it was, and shoved his glasses onto his face abruptly, standing up and looking down at John.

"Why can't you ever see my mind is as great as my body?" exclaimed Vriska, jolting John out of admiring said physical features. "That's the problem with Tavros, too! He just stares at me sometimes and doesn't take in a word I'm saying. Like you always did. And always have, whenever you come here, come to think of it. Why do I even bother summoning you here whenever you sleep?" Vriska rolled her eyes and sat cross-legged next to John with a defeated expression. John straightened his glasses and sat up gingerly, trying to formulate words in his foggy head to deny her words.

"You're still in _love_," Vriska said suddenly, looking at him sharply. John scooted backwards apprehensively, unsure of what to say or even whether she was accusing him of a crime or observing a virtue—and aware, painfully, that it was true. Ever since he had sailed away on the Prospitian warship with Jade, Vriska had been in the dream bubbles to welcome him, and to taunt him unconsciously with Tavros's lovestruck presence. She had been attainable yet never really _there_, intolerably flirtatious, and always looking her best in the same old ratty adventurers' clothes.

It was actually beginning to drive John crazy—a feeling he had suppressed for ages, lest Vriska make fun of him. And now she had said it aloud. The moment of truth was _now_. He could do this.

"Yeah," he said simply, wincing at the sound of his own voice. He sounded so much older; it occurred to him that she would always be about thirteen.

Vriska cracked a smile, laughing a little. "Fall for the living, John, not the dead," she murmured, brushing his cheek affectionately in a way that sent shivers down his spine. "You have no place wasting time on me any longer."

"I'm not wasting—" began John indignantly.

"I order you to stop!" commanded Vriska, with a gleam of ferocity in her blank eyes and the hint of a snarl tugging at her mouth. "This has gone on far too long. I've watched you carefully over the last few years, John. It's time to wake up."

John, at a loss for what to say, gave her his cutest puppy-dog eyes and smiled as Vriska laughed.

"I'd forgotten all about how wonderful you are, John," she admitted in a rush, as though afraid he would try to stop her. "Why I stayed with the other you. It was so hard for me, with him not remembering…" She trailed off. "I left him, because it was tearing me apart to smile at him or quote some conversation long gone, and he'd never had it. And then I kept meeting you in the dream bubbles. I've forced myself away from you because I—"

John wasn't sure what made him do it, but suddenly he was kissing her like he'd always wanted to do. He had kissed Jade exactly once, a long time ago, when both of them had gotten drunk for the first time, but he wasn't exactly good at it, which is why it surprised him so much to find himself doing it anyway.

What John lacked, Vriska more than made up for. Before John even knew what was going on, Vriska had somehow removed his shirt and was now in his lap, kissing him ferociously, as though drinking in his presence because she would never experience it the same way again.

A split second before he was knocked reluctantly into consciousness again, John observed a furious Tavros standing before them, unnoticed by Vriska, cracking his knuckles and observing John as though wondering how best to kill him.

**((Wow, this ended up a lot sadder than in my head. Oh well. Lemme know what you think, anyway…))**


End file.
